


So Quite New A Thing

by LadyRhiyana



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Post-Lady Stoneheart, Sharing a Bed, The Long Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:15:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28295154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyRhiyana/pseuds/LadyRhiyana
Summary: Five times Jaime and Brienne share a bed.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 43
Kudos: 151
Collections: JB Festive Festival Exchange 2020





	So Quite New A Thing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tuliptoes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tuliptoes/gifts).



> Dear tuliptoes, I hope this hits your three requested tropes of Hurt/Comfort, Bed Sharing and Fake Dating. Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays :-) I hope you enjoy. 
> 
> Thank you to slipsthrufingers for organising this exchange! It has been a delightful distraction.
> 
> Title is from e.e. cummings "i like my body when it is with your"

1.

The bed isn’t big enough for both of them. Jaime is tall, and Brienne even taller; there’s no room for them to sprawl out, and they sleep curled together, knees bent and cramped.

Most nights it’s not a problem. The fighting continues day after day, night after night, and by the time they stagger back to their tiny chamber they’re too exhausted to do anything more than strip off their armour, wash themselves with a damp cloth and fall into bed, still half-clothed. Sometimes they exchange sloppy kisses and fumbling caresses – exhausted couplings beneath the furs, sighing into each other’s mouths and falling asleep immediately afterwards.

Once, Jaime had fallen asleep _during_ the act. His weight had been heavy on her, his body warm and solid. She’d pushed him to the side and finished herself off, curling around him afterwards with a rueful smile.

As the Long Night continues, the darkness never-ending, the warmth of him beside her is the only thing that keeps her going.

**

2.

It’s late. She’s tired. And her roommate is asleep in her bed again.

“Jaime,” she says, giving him a nudge, “Jaime, you’ve got a perfectly good bed of your own –”

He slits open one bright green eye, considers her, and grudgingly rolls over – offering her half of her own bed.

She’s too tired to care. Tomorrow, she’ll call the campus administration again, try once more to straighten out the misunderstanding that had landed her with a male roommate with a gender-neutral name –

But in the meantime, she lies down beside him, fully clothed, and drifts off to sleep with the rhythm of his slow breathing in her ears.

**

3.

“I can’t sleep,” Brienne says. “I keep dreaming of – her.”

He holds her close as she weeps, her body wracked with fever and grief.

She’s not sure whether her tears are for Lady Catelyn or for her own lost honour.

Afterwards, when she’s cried herself dry, he finally lets her go. “Sleep, now,” he says. “We’ll talk again in the morn.”

“No,” she grasps his tunic, refuses to let him draw away. “No, stay. Please. I can’t – sometimes I dream of you,” she admits, unable to meet his eyes, “and if you’re here it might –”

He sighs, and pulls her close against him, so close that she buries her face in his shoulder, drawing in the scent of him – sweat and leather and steel, and the male scent she’d grown so used to, when they’d been held captive by the Bloody Mummers.

The solid weight of him is achingly familiar. Shaking inside, she pulls him close and refuses to let go.

**

4.

“Let me get this straight,” Brienne says. “You needed someone to pretend to be your fake boyfriend so that your real _girl_ friend’s father won’t get suspicious.”

Galladon grins at her. “It’s good, isn’t it?”

She ignores that last comment. “And so out of all the men in the world, you picked your girlfriend’s _twin brother_ , who happens to be _my_ ex-boyfriend. And now you want me to come with you and Jaime on a road trip to Casterly Rock.”

“Exactly! No one will suspect a thing.”

She takes a long, slow breath and then exhales, trying for calm. “Galladon,” she says slowly, “at any point in this grand scheme of yours, did you ever stop and think it might be _monumentally_ stupid?” 

“Actually, Tyrion did mention something about you not liking it –”

“ _Tyrion_ is in on this?”

“Of course!” Her brother smiles sweetly at her. “It was his idea in the first place. I admit I was a bit sceptical at first, but what could possibly go wrong?”

**

It goes wrong almost immediately.

Galladon’s car suffers a mysterious breakdown, so they have to go in Jaime’s car. While the sleek, cherry red Valyrian sports car is performance engineered and designed for racing, there is very little room for two men and a woman, all more than six feet tall.

Jaime drives, because he trusts no one else behind the wheel of his beloved car. Galladon pulls his elder brother rank and even greater height on her and claims the back seat. Brienne is left to cram herself into the front seat, so close to Jaime that she can feel the warmth of his body and smell his familiar cologne.

When they stop for the night, they find that somehow the hotel had gotten their bookings mixed up, and instead of three rooms they have only one room with two beds, a king and a single.

“Galladon, are you sure you got the bookings right?” Brienne demands, as the hotel clerk looks on, apologetic.

“It wasn’t me,” Galladon says. “Tyrion made all the arrangements. He assured me he would take care of everything.” He squares his shoulders and puts on his most solemn and noble expression. “Flip you for the single,” he says.

They flip a coin.

Galladon wins.

**

5.

She’s drunk. He’s drunk. They’re both drunk.

“Jaime,” she slurs, leaning her weight heavily against him, “Jaime, did I ever tell you –”

“Tell me tomorrow,” he says. “We’ll both remember it then.” He nods, overbalancing just a little; his green eyes are glazed and unfocused, and he smiles at her, lazy and fond.

“No, no, I want to tell you,” she insists, drawing herself up and staring solemnly at him. “You smell really nice. And you’re just the right height for –”

She trails off, embarrassed.

“Just the right height for what?”

“For snuggling,” she admits, dragging him close and nuzzling him. He smells like – like leather and sandalwood and sea air, all crisp and masculine, and she doesn’t want to let him go.

“Come on,” he says, huffing out a laugh. “Let’s get you to bed. You’ll probably regret this in the morning.”

They tumble into her bed, Brienne wrapping her long limbs around him and clinging like a limpet.

“Stay,” she mumbles into his golden curls. “Stay here. With me.”

She breathes out a long, sighing breath, her eyes closing as she drifts into slumber. Dimly, she can feel his long fingers stroking her hair.

“Forever, if you’ll have me,” he says, but by then she’s already asleep. 


End file.
